


one step at a time

by Snowsheba



Series: a shipping challenge, Dave edition (ON HIATUS) [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Accidents, Healing, Humanstuck, M/M, bonding over hardships, tw: self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:19:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowsheba/pseuds/Snowsheba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A broken record, a shattered mind</p><p>Pick up the pieces, put 'em back together</p><p>Nothing's perfect but at least you tried</p><p>[or, in which two boys slowly learn to live again]</p>
            </blockquote>





	one step at a time

**Author's Note:**

> Speedwrite done in an hour.
> 
> Enter the pairing of Dave and Mituna. Given the state of Mituna's mind, something like this was the only thing that made sense.
> 
> You'll have to excuse the confusing writing style, but I personally think it's fitting.

**1\. a broken record**

Crisscrossed lines embedded in your skin, straight and narrow, pale and soft. Your body is a canvas, the blade is a brush; you are the artist unwilling, but the fingers move on their own. Crimson ink splatters your skin, clear paint runs down your freckled cheeks. Strangled noises escape your throat, muffled cries into the void of no return, a sniff the only sound spearing past the curtain.

A knock on the door, a rush to run the razor under the tap, cuts wiped clean and shirt rustles over your head. A call from a custodian, worried as he can be, unsure where to tread; a reassuring word from your lips, bitter and vile on your lying tongue. Hate clutching at your heart, black claws sinking into your soul, hooks dragging you to the dark depths of nothingness, mind scrambling but falling.

Crows fly free outside your window, music swells color in your gray vision, misery dulls your senses, exhaustion slows your limbs. Languid, slow, things go by; life is meaningless, quiet, still. Friends go, the three who matter aren’t here to yell, cacophony of brightly-colored words fall on deaf ears. Concerned brother connects, but only halfway, comments and desperate pleas ignored, and your back is turned. Fear pushes you forward and holds you back, and still you walk, living the only life you have, and the broken records still plays, wretched notes floating to a sky where no one hears.

Then there is blood running down your shoulder, streams flowing past the contours of lean muscle, an ambulance, then a hospital. Your fellow patient in the room is crazy as fuck, and you can’t get past the bandages around his eyes, the wildness of his curly hair.

**2\. a shattered mind**

Fog, mist, clouds in your eyes and your heart and your mind, thoughts unclear and focus wavering. Tongue malfunctions, words come and go in violent gales, temper sways back and forth like willow trees. Thoughts flow like rivers, rapids your swirling thoughts, rock the obstructions your processes can’t pass. Confusion, confusion, that’s all you are, confusion, no way to break through.

A girl, an accident, “it’s a miracle,” should’ve been dead by all rights. Brain won’t work, black car, rusty bicycle. Impact, arms outspread, wings, fly like a bird, impact, darkness. Fluorescent, sharp smell, thick tongue, memory or lack thereof, red shades, salty tears, can’t remember. Girl. Smooth skin, skillz, skateboard, sobs. S. Black hair, white teeth, black eyes, round ears, blunt fingers, pointy nose. Name. Girl. Name. Don’t know. Can’t remember.

Apologize. Rage. Apologize again. Hospital? Fuck hospitals. Sorry. Hospitals good. Rage. Apologize. Throw your pillow at a patient being wheeled in, miss by ten feet, yards, measurements escape you, rage. Apologize for ten, twenty, five, don’t know, a long time afterwards. He’s chill, he’s cool. You want to be cool. Rage. Complain. Whine. Apologize. Listen to him. Twang in his voice, soft, gentle, scared. Like you. Fear. Don’t know what to think. Ally? Foe? Ally. Friend. You think.

Understand him. Talk. Talk because he understands. Words don’t come, he knows what they are. Can’t remember? He will. Girl comes, they talk, name. Latula. You forget. No, you don’t, _Latula_. Pretty. Beautiful. You know her. You know him. Beautiful. Blond. Pretty. Blushes when you say so. Apologize, and he says it’s fine. You worry. Words, reassuring tone. Sound fake, sound sincere? Can’t tell. S’hard. Brain, work, no. Brain fails you. Life does too. But he’s still there.

Love? No. Friend. Best friend. Plati – platot – platonic. Love. Yes. Dave Strider. Best friend.

**3\. pick up the pieces**

Mituna Captor. Brother of Sollux Captor, ex-boyfriend of Latula Pyrope. She can’t keep up with him anymore, she loves him but can’t do it, and you can’t either. He’s a whirlwind, a hurricane, uncontrollable and loud and quiet and sad and angry all the time, free as a gale of wind, gritty as a sandstorm, fierce as thunder, quick as lightning. Slower than a sloth, tired as a cat, happy as a dog, moods flipping like a switch, on and off, on and off.

He talks about pain, you talk about hatred. He talks about hatred, you talk about pain. Back and forth, back and forth. Understanding, comprehension, and your heart beats harder, beats regular, beats normal. Undercurrent of emotion, sweeping up debris, washing it away, scars scab and heal and his bandages are removed and his hair is cut.

Inquisitive eyes, exotic eyes, blue and brown, glowing and crazy and feral and gentle and miserable. Your eyes, red and angry and tired and hated, meet his, friendship blooms like a rose, his hand is warm to the touch, his fingers twitch like bees. Small, curved nose, wide smile, crazy laughter, but he is a person and he is here with you.

Bro visits, harried and dark of eye and worried, guilt eats at your stomach for shutting him out. Apologize, hash it out, hug until you’re both weeping, kiss on the forehead before he leaves. Brother comes, Mituna can’t remember name, you whisper like you are on stage and Captor the Younger is introduced to you.

Shenanigans, laughter, Sollux leaves smiling and you and Mituna bump fists. Heat in your body, red in your cheeks, quiet of the night you dream of eyes of different shades and awaken to him muttering your name.

**5\. put ‘em back together**

Walking around, skipping, dancing, plodding, stomping, crying, laughing, Dave. Dave Dave Dave Dave Dave. Hallways of tile and bright light, whitewashed walls and ceilings of cardboard squares. Happy, angry, apologize, sorry, brush of a warm hand, soft eyes and good words.

Food fights, punishment, chortling as you are escorted back. Blond hair. Black shades, red eyes, opposite of her, of, of Latula, pretty. Beautiful. Dave. Whispered conversations, nighttime promenades, giggles and choking, fear and worry but everything’s fine. Warmth, safety, you’re okay. You’re fine. Accident. Always. You’ll do better. Won’t happen again. Doesn’t matter in the end, you can’t stop anyone but yourself. Dave gone, doesn’t come back, then sounds.

Tears, blood, nurses and beeping and loud, loud noises. Dave invisible, hidden behind people. He isn’t better, he’s still sick? Doctors won’t say. You ask. Silence. No words. Dave sleeping, quiet for some days. You behave. Afraid, fear, what if, what if. Thoughts in circles, can’t remember anything. Girl. Name? No. P. Last name. First name. _Name_ , goddammit, name, name, NAME, Dave. Fuck. Shit. Captor. Sollux. NO. Girl. NAME. Memory won’t work. Can’t remember. No. No. La la. Fuck. Hell. Dave okay? Hope. Please. Be okay.

You wake, restrains on wrists, ankles. Can’t move. Panic; then Dave in your vision. Cooing. You’re fine, man, s’cool, calm down. Sniff, cry, recover, anger, cry again, apologize. Small smile on Dave’s face. Best thing you’ve ever seen. Laughter, he laughs, you see him cry, was he worried? He was worried. Smooth fingers on your cheek, stroking, lean digits, thin, pale, rough with callouses. Touch. Contact. Don’t pull away. He doesn’t. You don’t.

Love. Love? Platonic. Maybe. You don’t know. He’s warm. He’s nice. Pretty. Understands you. You like him. You love him. One way or the other you love him.

**6\. nothing’s perfect**

No cutting, less worrying, less fear, less hate. You feel free. Crows perch on the windowsill, you sing a song, Mituna listens quietly. Can’t stay here forever with him even if you want to; enjoy the time while you still have a breath in you, Strider. You’re selfish, but you can’t help it, you cling to him as much as he clings to you.

You’re released but he isn’t, he won’t be for a good long while. But they learn that he is not manageable without you; they send him to his family, you are commissioned to visit him. You do, every day after school that’s now not terrible, reassure him, sit with him, talk to him, touch him. Hug him. Love him, in a way that brothers might. Love him, but soon figure out that it’s not in a way brothers do.

Sollux watches, Latula spectates, but only you can work the calming magic. Mituna talks and talks and talks, you’re the amateur therapist with Rose behind the scenes, a guy named Kurloz is mentioned but is never found despite Sollux’s best hacking efforts. Wonder, fear, you sleep over more often than not and maybe Bro doesn’t understand but you try to make things work for him. Mituna is worth it. You don’t know why but he is.

A kiss, softly, gently on the cheek, when he’s quiet and curled in your lap, and he flips over and grabs you and pulls your face to his. Soft lips, pointed teeth. Your heart hammers and you are past the point of no return.

**7\. but at least you tried**

Love. Dave Strider. Not platonic anymore. Not boyfriends but boyfriends. Calm. Ocean waves rolling in the distance, haunting piano refrains, stolen kisses and held hands. Confusion not as deep, fog not as obscuring. Clouds high in the sky instead of in front of your eyes; colors settle and are pretty and are easily distinguished, no longer a blur of hues unknown.

Your life finds balance, and now you can live.


End file.
